byTx Tall Tales©
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A misunderstanding?
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I don't like my sister-in-law. Never have. She's a manipulative, deceitful, lying little bitch. And not that particularly good-looking, although she does have the biggest tits of any woman I know. Her husband on the other hand, is a nice guy.
What's strange is how they had gotten together in the first place. My wife's brother is a good looking guy. Growing up and throughout college he had his choice of women, using them like Kleenex's. The little known family secret (shared between just a handful of us, during a drunken bachelor party,) was that Chris dated Sheri as part of a fraternity prank. It was a pig party where the guys all invited ugly girls, with prizes for the ugliest. The girls never found out the nature of the party. And Chris, in his infinite wisdom, went back to the trough for more. We were all shocked when they got engaged. Mr. Popular, and the pig-faced, sow of a girl, with an obnoxious twang.
Chris dropped out of the University, in his third year. Sheri had already graduated. They moved back near his family in Virginia, and his parents set him up with all the equipment and space to start his own landscaping business. That lasted less than a year. Sheri hated the east coast, and made things difficult all around. I'd gotten her a job as an administrative assistant where I worked, and she was just a pain in the ass, with a holier-than-thou attitude. She was very heavy, with short blonde hair, and huge tits that preceded her everywhere she went. She dressed nice enough, and even wore reasonable makeup. My wife used to say that you could tell she'd be pretty if she lost weight; I couldn't see it.
Before the year was out, she'd called home and gotten jobs for both Chris and herself, back in Austin. She worked in sales, and he worked on a loading dock, for an office furniture company. It paid well enough for them to buy a nice house in a nicer neighborhood, just one community over from her parents. She got nice bonuses twice a year, but they never had enough money to come visit the rest of the family.
As families go, we stayed in communication less than usual. The first 5 or 6 years, we might see them once a year, if that. Even that infrequent occasion rarely went well. Then we only kept in touch by phone for another 2 years or so.
Things changed though. Chris, starting at the very bottom of the food chain, was climbing the corporate ladder. He was a hard worker, and was developing great relationships with a lot of the guys at the office, including the owner. After 10 years there he was in sales himself, and managing 12 people. Things were going well for him.
Sheri, on the other hand, quit work when she got pregnant with their second son, and they pulled back on the spending, getting by on his salary.
During this period, somehow, during the last few years, she and my wife started talking more, and more, and as improbable as it seems, they were becoming friends. I had moved to Dallas about 4 years after they moved to Round-Rock, north of Austin. We only lived a couple of hours away, but had only once made it to the house they lived in for the last six years. That was a total fiasco, and they'd never even made the effort to visit us in Dallas. I traveled to Austin regularly for business, at least a couple of times a month, and the idea of paying them a visit never entered my mind. Chris and I got along ok, but really had almost no common interests, while my feelings for Sheri, I've already shared. I didn't care if my wife and she were getting along, I really didn't like her. And I'm a pretty easy going guy who can find the good in most people.
Then one day the hammer dropped. The founder of the company decided to retire, and hired a new President. Within 6 months this joker was replacing all the upper-management. Chris had just been promoted a year earlier, and they had been on top of the world. They'd bought a new RV, had a pool put in, replaced the living room furniture, the works. Now he'd been given a pink slip and 11 weeks severance pay, one for each year he worked. He received no benefits.
I exchanged emails with him, and worked at getting his resume put together and polished up. Then I got an email from Sheri asking for the same, so I put aside my irritation, and did the same for her. I worked up a couple of cover letters for them, and they hit the street looking for work. I even called a few clients, to see if anybody was currently looking.
After two months, he had received a couple of job offers, but only at about half of what he'd been earning before, after bonuses and commission. Sheri wasn't even having that much luck, not able to find anything paying much more than $10 an hour. She had been doing some kind of MLM party business out of her home for the last couple of years, and my wife said that Sheri was working really hard to get that going. I wasn't about to hold my breath over that one.
The next time I was headed down to Austin, my wife told me that Sheri and Chris wanted to invite me over for dinner. I was a little surprised. I hadn't seen them for over 4 years. We got regular pictures of the boys, now eight and six years old, I thought it would be nice to see them. It wasn't their fault they had a bitch for a mom. I agreed. I was going to get my work done, stop in for dinner and a visit, spend the night, and drive the three hours back home early the next morning.
I arrived late, after a long day of business, with a bottle of wine in hand. Jason, the oldest met me at the door, and brought me into the house. "Momma's in the kitchen," he told me, which was a surprise. She could never cook a lick. I remember being invited over for dinner almost 10 years earlier, and she had make spaghetti and meatballs. She put the raw meatballs in the sauce, thinking they would cook. What a disaster.
I let Jason lead the way. "I brought some wine for dinner," I announced. They were big wine drinkers, always had been. They always kept a box in the refrigerator. I hoped they could deal with wine that came in a bottle, and didn't have a screw-off cap.
Sheri turned away from closing the oven, and stood and gave me a smile, walking up to take the bottle and give me hug. I had to admit, she looked 100% better. Her hair was no longer the fake yellow blonde, but a natural light brown hair with red highlights, a little longer than shoulder length. She wasn't skinny, but she was no longer the cow she'd been, with a proportional figure, narrow waist, and pretty good legs from what I could see. She still had big tits, but at least they didn't look like bowling balls glued to her chest.
She gave me one of those artificial hugs and kisses on the cheek, that you save for wedding and family reunions. Then she said, "You look nice," and gave me a second hug, a little warmer. Alarms went off in my head.
"You too," I told her, not wanting to blurt out that she looked the best she ever had. It's amazing what losing 70 or 80 pounds could do for a body. "Where's Chris?" I asked.
She pouted a bit. "He got an interview in Houston tomorrow, and drove down tonight so he wouldn't be late. It was a last minute thing, and he didn't want to take any chances. He's staying with Jerry," Jerry was her youngest brother. She reached up high for a serving dish, and I hate to say it, but I scoped her out. She really cleaned up nice. She was wearing pretty tight shorts, and a t-shirt. The shorts looked good on her. She may have lost weight, but she still had the curves to fill the shorts, and her shirt. If she wasn't such a despicable person, she'd have been totally fuckable.
'Shit' I thought. I wondered how long I'd have to stay to be sociable.
I needn't have worried. I spent a few minutes with the boys, and then Sheri had the dinner on the table. It was lasagna, and surprisingly good. She asked if we could save the wine for another time, and we just had a beer with dinner, she drank an Amstel light. We got caught up on the kid's lives mostly, and I was surprised that I actually had an almost decent time. Still, I was glad when the obligation was over.
"That was nice." I told her, honestly. "Thanks for having me over, but I think I should head out soon."
She looked surprised. "But you were going to spend the night."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure how appropriate that is, and if I leave soon, I can get back home before it's too late." I told her, thinking how sad it was that I'd rather face a 3 hour drive, at night, after drinking, then spend any time with her.
"Can you hold on just a minute? I've got coffee brewing. We can at least wash a little of the beer out of your system. Let me put the boys down, and I'll be right back."
It took more than a minute. More like twenty. I finished cleaning up in the kitchen while I waited for her, and was just wiping down the counters when she showed up again, looking a bit more frazzled than when I arrived.
"Oh, no, Steve, you don't have to do that," she said, sounding almost upset.
"No problem," I told her. "Least I could do after you made such a nice dinner. You've gotten a lot better at cooking, nothing like the last meal I had that you cooked."
She had the decency to blush. "It's the mom thing, you know. Had to put something on the table. Couldn't live off of carryout and TV dinners all the time." She was busying herself putting together a coffee tray with some homemade cookies. At her request I followed her into the living room, and took a seat on the couch, by the cookies.
Sheri perched herself next to me, brushed her hair back and gave a big sigh. "Chris usually puts them to bed; I've got the wake up duty," she said, taking a sip from her black coffee. That was a change as well. She used to drink those coffee drinks that were more like dessert.
"I know," I commiserated. "I've got the bedtime job at home."
Sheri put her coffee down, and took a visibly deep breath. Then she turned to me, her body facing me. "Steve, we need some help."
So that was the catch. I had been half-expecting something like this, but thought that Chris would be man enough to ask on his own.
She leaned forward and put her hand on my arm. It was almost like she could read my mind. "Chris doesn't know I'm asking, please don't tell him. I'm hoping we can keep this to ourselves," she said.
"What kind of help are we talking about?" I asked.
"We can't make the mortgage next month. We've already returned the RV, and lost a lot of money on that. I wish we could return the pool. Our bank account is almost dry, we borrowed against our 401K to put in the pool and fix up the house, I'm working for $9.75 an hour for benefits, and Chris's job search is not looking good. If he took the only job he's been offered, we'd have to sell everything and move into a smaller house. We'd probably go bankrupt." She blurted it all out in a hurry, not even willing to look at me as she said it.
"Sheri, I don't understand. Chris was the only guy I know who actually did keep 6 months expenses in the bank. I know you got a severance package. It's only been 2 months - how'd this happen?" I asked.
Suddenly she was crying, but I didn't trust those crocodile tears for a second. "It was just a bunch of things. One was Quixtar. I was doing great, I was selling lots of stuff, and was making almost a hundred dollars a month. I had a couple of great months, and I could go Silver, I was making more than $300. Then it looked like I was going to lose it, so of course I bought some product and stockpiled it, so I could sell it later."
She caught her breath, wiped away some of the tears and continued. "My upline was helping a lot, and I was going to meetings, helping others buying and selling the sales material, buying more stuff if it looked like I wasn't going to hit my numbers. I was a big success in the group, making $500 a month and more. I even got a $2500 bonus. I don't know how it happened, but I spent over twelve thousand on it in the last two years."
"Twelve thousand?" I asked, incredulous.
"Well, I was getting a lot of the money back, but I was stupid. Instead of putting it back in the bank, we just spent it, like it was money we'd earned. I didn't even realize what we were doing until Chris lost his job and I went over our accounts." She admitted. "When he was fired, we only had $4000 in the bank. Two years ago, before he got his big promotion, and before we did all the upgrades around here, paid off our credit cards, and all that, we had over $30,000 saved."
"So what did Chris say about all this." I asked her, afraid to hear it.
"He doesn't know yet," she said softly. "I thought he'd get a job, and I could use some of the Quixtar money to start rebuilding the bank account, but now he's expecting me to bring in $500 a month with this stuff, and most months it costs me anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred dollars to make my numbers."
"This isn't good, Sheri," I told her, shaking my head.
"Don't you think I know that!" She snapped, showing a little of the bitch I knew so well. Then she calmed. "After I pay the bills next week, we'll have $400 in the bank. We get around another $700 every couple of weeks for unemployment. I won't be able to make the car-payments and electric bill, never mind the mortgage or groceries."
"What about your family?" I asked.
"Mom and Dad are on their pension, and don't have a pot to piss in," she laughed, "34 years with the same company, and Dad can't even golf anymore, can't even afford the cart fee, unless we pick it up. You know my brothers don't make any money, hell we've been loaning them money for the last 10 years."
"Then it's time to get it back," I told her.
"Trying to squeeze blood from a rock." She leaned in closer. "I know we haven't always gotten along, but we're family. We really are in bad shape. The boys don't know the half of it. We're going to have to lose the club membership, they won't be able to golf with their dad anymore. I'm going to have to pull them out of their Tae Kwon Do classes soon."
She closed her eyes, sniffling. "I'm trying Steve. I'm working like a dog. I work 8 hours a day to take home $200 bucks a week, just so we can have benefits. I'm living on the phone, working my downline, trying to get business going, recruiting new people. And I'm still trying to keep this house sane." She opened her eyes, wet with tears and looked at me with what might be genuine desperation.
She sighed again. "I don't want to beg. Please. I know you can help us, if anyone in the family can."
"I don't think so, Sheri." I told her, looking at her crestfallen look. "As long as you're working at that MLM stuff, it's throwing good money after bad. You must know that 99% of the people lose money in the long run. You're just treading water and helping those above you lose less money each month. And your expenses must be huge. You'd be better of just going bankrupt, and taking your lumps."
"God no! Chris would kill me. We're having enough problems. If he found out I'd spent most of our nest-egg I don't think we'd survive it."
Then it happened. She went to the hard-sell. She scooted forward, slid her arm behind my neck, and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Please, Steve? If we just had $10,000 dollars, I think we could make it through the next few months until Chris had a good job. We could probably start paying you back in 6 months." Her free hand slid down to rest on my thigh.
I needed to get away from her. I could smell her and it was exciting. I was disgusted with myself. I'd actually started to get an erection from this deceptive little bitch rubbing my thigh.
"Sheri," I told her, slipping away from her, and turning to face her. "I'm going to have to think about it. If I were to help you, I'd ask you to make some changes. Big changes. I still think I'd just be throwing the money away."
"I understand," she said softly, "just please think about it. Don't make the boys suffer because of some mistakes of mine and Chris's."
I thought to myself the only mistake Chris made was marrying the bitch, and not keeping an eagle eye on the books.
It had started raining outside, and when I went to the door, I really wasn't looking forward to the three hour drive ahead of me, in that soup.
Sheri stood behind me. "Why don't you stay? The guest room is already made up, you know where it is. You can leave in the morning. We can leave the money issue alone for now, I won't bother you about it."
I reluctantly let myself get talked into it. I borrowed an umbrella and went out to the car to get my overnight bag. Twenty minutes later I was ensconced in the guest room over the garage, and done with my evening ritual, laying in bed.
I was thinking about the situation. I could afford it. I wouldn't like to, but the money wasn't the object. The Quixtar situation was like an open vein, draining them dry. The lifestyle they were living was relatively new and just as bad. Their car payments were probably over a grand a month. Thank God they'd had the sense to get rid of the RV.
I was only a little surprised to see the door open. Sheri was framed in the doorway for just a moment, wearing nightwear made more for undressing than sleeping. She had a blanket in her hand, and as she walked towards the bed, the door quietly swung closed behind her.
"I thought you might get a little cold," she said softly, her southern drawl exaggerated.
The room was dark. I leaned over and touched the base of the bedside lamp, which turned it on at the lowest setting.
Sheri looked damn good. The outfit she was wearing was 10% material, and 90% see through. Her breasts pushed the material far away from her body, and her nipples poked through the material, promising wonders to the person who would set them free. The shorts were just as diaphanous, with a small dark patch at the top of her crotch advertising her nakedness beneath the lace. Her stomach was exposed between the top and bottom, and even if she didn't have a six pack, she had gentle curves that made me want to run my hands across her skin.
The scheming bitch.
She put the blanket at the foot of the bed, and sat down on the edge near me.
"How are you at blowjobs?" I asked her.
She acted almost like I'd slapped her. She jerked back, almost falling off the bed. "Excuse me?" she asked.
"Blowjobs. You know, your mouth, my cock." I reminded her, pulling back the sheets and showing her that her outfit was having the desired effect.
She stood up, shaking. "I'm sorry, this was a mistake," she said turning to head back out.
I reached out and grabbed the top of her panties/shorts and pulled her back to the bed. "Mistake my ass. Sit down."
She looked like she was going to say something, then she acquiesced, sitting more carefully this time.
I reached into her top from below and squeezed the nearest tit, cupping it, tweaking her nipple between my fingers. "There's no denying it. You do have pretty incredible tits."
She blushed, and tried to brush my hand away. I just held her breast tighter and watched her bite her lower lip when I squeezed her nipple more.
"As long as you're in here, dressed for play, I really could use a blowjob. I always thought you must be pretty good at that. There had to be something you used to lure Chris into your web."
The look of uncertainty hardened into one of anger at the insult. She worked up enough courage to push my hand away. "I am good. Too bad you'll never know."
I laughed. "Never is a really long time. In this case, I'm guessing less than 60 seconds, unless you're really bent on destroying any chance of my bailing you out of your predicament."
She took a deep breath and tried reason. "Steve, I just came in here to make sure you were ok. I'm married. You're married. My kids are only a couple of rooms away."
"I understand." I told her. "I won't scream when I come in your mouth."
"Don't do this," she said pleadingly.
"Sheri, I'm sure you've delivered hundreds of blowjobs in your life. What's one more between friends? You'd like to be my friend wouldn't you?" I reached down and stroked my cock which was sticking up through the fly in my boxers, which is all I was wearing. Her eyes followed my hand, mesmerized.
She looked at me. "Yes, I want to be your friend," she admitted.
"Good. Go ahead and suck me off, while I think about your problem." I reached over and pulled her head down to my crotch. I wasn't normally such a rude asshole, but it seemed appropriate at the time.
She pulled away from me for a second, and I thought she was going to say something more, but she cooled off, and took my cock in her hand, feeling the heft of the gift I had for her.
"Go on now, show me the magic." I told her, thrusting against her hand.
I saw that spark of life in her hand, and saw the mood turn as she inwardly accepted the challenge. Then she released my staff, and pulled my shorts off. I was lying completely nude in front of her. She was seeming a lot more willing all or a sudden, and climbed between my legs, bending over my stiff rod.
I looked down at her, as she held my erect cock in her hand. She looked up at me, the staff in front of her face, then licked me slowly and deliberately from balls to head. She ran her tongue across her upper lip and made a delightful "mmmm" sound, before licking me again and again. Over time her licks became exploratory, and she was sucking and kissing all around, still refraining from actually taking me in her mouth.
She stopped and sat more upright. Then watching me watch her, she placed her head over my cock and sucked me. She was good, her mouth warm, as she sucked just the end of my cock, holding me in her mouth while she worked me over with her tongue. She slowly, carefully took more and more of me in her mouth, until I could feel myself pressing at the back of her mouth. Pulling back, she crawled out from between my legs, and slid around until she was lying next to me, her face still at my waist. She took me into her mouth again, more aggressively, sucking and stroking, until she pushed down and took me into her throat. Damn, she was talented. I don't know if I'd ever had a more skilled woman going down on me. I had the urge to fuck her face hard, and not especially worried about her feelings for me, I grabbed the back of her head and did just that. She held onto my hips with both hands, and gave me the most incredible deep throat action. I enjoyed every moment of watching the deceitful, selfish, slut devour me. Eventually she fought off my hand, and pulled away gasping, a long trail of saliva hanging from her mouth to my cock. I could honestly say it was the best she'd ever looked.
"Easy cowboy, I'll give you all I've got, but a girl's got to breathe sometime," she said, her chest heaving. She was stroking me fast and hard, while she caught her breath.
She suddenly leaned over and took me to the root, pushing her face deep into my pubes. I'm not small by any means, and have had several women struggle to swallow me, but none ever succeeded like this slut. She pulled back and repeated it several times. Taking me all the way out of her mouth, and then burying my entire cock in her face, her throat massaging my cock head.
She went back at it, and I held her head, my hand buried in her hair, while I fucked her face. She did give me all she had, and I was quite content to drop my entire load in her mouth a couple of minutes later. She lapped it up like cream and cleaned every inch of my cock before sitting up again.
"So, how am I at blowjobs?" she asked coyly, already knowing the answer.
"I think I'm starting to figure out why Chris married you," I confessed.
"Believe me, there's a lot more to it than that," she told me confidently.
Then she stretched out next to me, on her side. Her tit was in reach so I helped myself. This time she didn't fight it.
"So are we friends now?" She asked.
"I think it would take a lot more than that for you and me to ever become friends," I told her honestly. "But I am feeling a little better now, thank you.
A storm crossed her face, but slowly passed. She wasn't giving up yet.
She snuggled in closer, cuddling up to my side. "Mmmm, this feels nice, but it's so different. You're so much bigger than Christopher." Then she giggled, "I don't mean like that. He's got a great big giant peepee, just like yours. It's just that, you know, you're like twice his size. It's nice to be with someone who's actually bigger than me. It makes a girl feel like a girl."
Christopher is maybe 5'5, and 130 lbs soaking wet. He's in good shape, and very active, but he's a small guy. I'm almost 6'2" and about 220. I imagine she might notice a difference. When she'd been married about 3 years, and was at her peak size, she probably had me in weight, at about 5'4". Now I figured she was probably closer to 140-145. Not skinny, but definitely no longer fat.
"Take off your top," I told her, pushing her off of me.
She took it well, releasing those incredible tits back into the wild. "That's as far as I'm going, Steve," she warned me.
I laughed and pulled her over so her breasts were in my face, and I licked and sucked those delicious mounds while my hand slid down to her ass, inside her shorts. She tried to brush my hand away, so I grabbed her arm by the wrist, tightly and pulled her hand down to my cock, which was still semi-hard. "Don't fight me. Friends don't fight."
She moaned when my exploring hand slid past her tight little bunghole to caress the bottom of her moist slit. I was nibbling on her hard little nipple, enjoying the reaction. With a glacial slowness her hand wrapped around my cock, and slowly starting stroking.
I switched tits, worrying the other one, pulling her higher on the bed, so my fingers could penetrate her just a little bit more.
"Please, Steve," she moaned, closing her legs on my hand.
I pushed her off of me, reached down, and yanked the bottoms off. She laid there, looking so sexy, her hands trying to cover her breasts and pussy at the same time.
She looked on the verge of tears. I saw the fear in her eyes. As if she hadn't planned on this all along, coming into my bedroom nearly naked, with her husband out of town.
"Please," she said more urgently. "I'll... I'll blow you again, Ok?"
I laughed. "Yes, you will." Then I climbed on top of her in 69, and fed her my cock which was almost hard again. She took me, without a fight. I spread her legs, needing to apply some pressure. She started to close them again, and I pinched the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, getting her to yelp around my cock. She quickly opened her legs for me and I didn't have to remind her again.
Her pussy was very trimmed, only a small light brown bush above her tempting little chasm. I placed my mouth over her opening and teased her lips apart with my tongue. Then I used my hands and mouth to toy with her, while she sucked away diligently, my cock now a steel rod, headed back down her throat.
A few minutes of this, and I was afraid her infinitely talented mouth and throat was going to finish me again, and I didn't want my last load of the night to occur so soon. I climbed off of her, and pulled her in close, holding her against my side. She slowly warmed to the situation, and held me, her hand caressing my front. My hand found her delightful ass again, massaging those perfect cheeks.
"I thought we were friends once," she said softly. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it?"
"A very long time ago," I admitted.
She laid there quietly, waiting to see what was next. Her hand's wandering had lead her back below the belt and she was soon holding me, stroking my raging hard-on.
"Do you remember that time, at the Taylor's house, when you walked in on Chris and I doing it on the couch?" Sheri asked me, her hand just playing with me.
I had to laugh, "I never thought you could move so fast. All I saw was a flash of white rear-end, as you leapt over the back of the couch. I didn't think it was fair that you were completely naked, while Chris was mostly dressed. All he had to do was pull up his shorts."
"Well, it was my own fault. He was watching TV, and I sort of surprised him. I figured the parents were away until late, so we had the place to ourselves, and it was really naughty, in their house, facing those big plate glass doors. We had locked the front door, so we would know if anybody arrived," she recounted.
"Yeah, and I showed up on my bicycle, after doing the lake loop, and walked right in through those glass doors." I reminded her.
"How much did you see?" She asked.
"Everything. You were sitting on his cock, facing the doors, bouncing up and down. Your tits were bouncing even more than you, in spite of both of your efforts to control them. It was like you were looking right at me. Chris couldn't see anything." I told her.
"It was so strange. I watched you walk up, and saw you looking at me, but it was like it wasn't real, like it was one of my dreams, you walking towards me, and me ready. Then when you knocked on the glass, it was like a bubble popped, and I could have died," she confessed. "I thought you said that you really couldn't see much because of the glare off the glass."
I liked the feel of her hand on my shaft, but liked the feel of her mouth even more. I slid up the bed, and pushed her head back down to my cock. She went along, if not eagerly, at least not fighting it.
"I thought it was the gentlemanly thing to say. There was a little glare, but once I took my first step towards the house, the glare was gone, and I was watching a show," I admitted.
She started applying her oral attention, and I slid between her lips easily, if only for a few seconds. Then she asked, "How long were you watching?"
"It was probably only about 10 seconds or so, but it seemed like a long time. I thought you were pretty bad. You were looking right at me, and fucking him like it was the end of the world, without a care if I watched or not," I told her.
She pulled her face off of me for a bit. "When I'm really into it like that, and coming hard, I swear I'm oblivious to the world. I still don't think I would have noticed even after you knocked, if Chris hadn't almost thrown me off of him. Shit, I was so embarrassed, tumbling over the couch, getting stuck on top for a second with my big butt pointing at you. I almost died."
"Yeah," I told her, "It was kind of funny, the way you were a complete exhibitionist one minute, and then yelling at me to get out so you could get dressed."
"I'm sorry about that, I was just so embarrassed, and I didn't have any clothes in the living room." She took a suck on my cock, which was fully hard again. "Forgive me?"
"Of course, I'll consider the show I saw payment-in-full."
"I always did wonder how much you saw," she said thoughtfully. "I was always so embarrassed then. I hated for anybody to see me naked, or even in my underwear. Only Chris. Somehow he made it ok to see me naked, even when I was heavy, he always seemed to get turned on by me anyway. For someone like you to see me naked, God, that was just too much, I could have died."
"Like me?" I asked.
"You know, Mr. Perfect, always fit, always popular. I saw how all the women in the office treated you. Hell, your own boss wanted to bend over her desk for you. Patty seemed so lucky."
"Ha. Well I guess you know by now, I'm far from perfect," I reminded her.
"Maybe," she gave me a long slow suck, "but still pretty damn good."
I was surprised by her sudden friendliness. "I think I want to fuck you now," I told her, pulling her face off of my cock.
"I can't, Steve, really. I'll suck you so good your toes will curl, let me do that for you," she pleaded while I pulled her to the middle of the bed.
I felt we were getting too chummy. It reminded me of the movie My Fellow Americans, where James Garner says, "Let's stop talking. We're about to bond. It'll make me vomit." Instead I put her on her hands and knees, and got behind her. The view had changed over the years. She used to have a huge ass, one that looked like it could block the sun. Now it was nice. She had a distinct bikini line, outlining what was and wasn't off limits. Her hips were rounded, and her butt cheeks were full, but not flabby. She didn't have a ton of dimples all over her rear. I stroked her butt, feeling the soft flesh under my fingers.
"Please don't," she said plaintively, when I reached over to the bedside to turn up the lamp to it's brightest setting for a better view.
"Oh God! Don't stare at my fat ass," she mumbled, pressing her face into the bed.
I guess some old feelings are hard to erase. I was about to tell her that her ass wasn't fat, it was pretty tasty looking actually, but again, I wasn't looking for bonding. She had come on to me, throwing herself at me, hoping to get something out of it. I knew what I was getting out of it no matter what. And part of that was a pretty pink slit that was calling my name.
I rubbed my cock up and down her slit, while she shuddered. Then her hand was joining mine and she was guiding me inside her. I eased my length into her, and spread her cheeks wide, looking down past her little brown star to where I was entering her.
It was nice to have this uppity bitch on her hands and knees before me. I was going to fuck her raw. I grabbed her hips, and slammed into her hard, eliciting an "oof" from her, as I tickled her belly from the inside.
I was sliding it to her pretty steady, when she turned her head and looked at me. "How come you don't like me, Steve?" she asked hesitantly.
I was about to lie about it, but thought better of it. We both knew better. "I don't like the way you were back in Virginia. You wanted him to fail at the landscaping, which was the thing he knew best. He loved the outdoors, and you set him up to fail, and then forced him into an indoors desk job." Every few words I'd pull out and fuck her really hard, slamming my cock into her, shaking her whole body. It was anything but a kind and gentle loving. I was just fucking the hell out of the bitch.
"At the same time at work you always walked around like some snob with a stick shoved up her fat ass. You acted better than everybody, never socializing. You just couldn't wait to get away from this family, and as soon as you could, you were gone, never to be heard from again if we didn't contact you. Well I've got something for your ass now," I told her. "What do you say we see how you act with this stick shoved up your ass?" I reached down with my thumb, and pushed it into her, feeling a lot of resistance, but not really caring.
"Please don't," she moaned.
I didn't really want that. I was enjoying her pussy, to be honest.
We were both pretty quiet then, and I resumed the fucking, not quite so angry and rough, just enjoying the velvet grip of her pussy. I pulled out for a second, thinking of how I could use her next. Instead, she turned, put her hand on my chest and eased me to my back.
She straddled me, facing forward, and put my thick cock where it belonged. Even after the screwing she'd received, she was tight, and it was slow getting it back in and buried. She leaned over me, those bit tits calling out to me, while she rocked back and forth, her slippery twat as tight as a teen.
She started to explain. "Steve, Chris knew nothing about business. He wasn't ready to run his own. I tried to support him at first, but he wouldn't take any help. He wouldn't advertise. He had that big sign out front, and yet our yard looked like shit. Who would hire him to do theirs, when the only sample of his work was our dump? He wasn't making any money. He didn't know what to charge. Do you remember how proud he was when he got that big $4,000 project. He worked a week on that, with three helpers, and in the end, after expenses, we cleared less than two hundred dollars. Two hundred fucking dollars! His parents gave him the equipment, the property, and even let us live there for free, and we couldn't make a single payment. I don't think he made three thousand dollars in six months." She told me this while gently fucking me, her body sliding back and forth across mine, her breasts warm and heavy in my hands. She had lost all her resistance, and seemed to be enjoying this fucking at least as much as I was.
She leaned down, her body resting on mine as her hips moved up and down, her soft slit caressing the length of my shaft. Her lips were near my ear. "It was hard for me then. I didn't know anybody. His parents were over at our place all the time. His father came by every day, working on that damn vegetable garden of his. I worked with you, but I wasn't making hardly anything, it was barely giving me benefits, and paying the utilities." She sat up, her hips working some magic, as she continued to fuck me while barely moving.
"It was hard working in your office. All those engineers, and there were only a couple of women. You can't know what it's like to have breasts like these. Nobody ever sees me. All they see is my bra size. Look at them now. You must remember what they were like before I had my breast reduction. It hurt me just to stand around, it was like carrying a baby strapped to my chest." She cupped her breasts in her hands, raising them, offering them for my inspection.
I had forgotten about her breast reduction. My wife had mentioned it in passing. You had to wonder what those tits were like originally, if this was the after picture.
She leaned over, her weight on her hands, as she continued her screwing of me. Her breasts hung down deliciously, and reminded by the conversation, I once again held them, guiding them to my mouth, where I could enjoy them more completely. Her nipples were hard as stones, and I loved the feel of them on my tongue.
"The guys there, Jesus, what a bunch of nerds. They would try to talk to me and then just stare at my tits while they babbled. Any one of them would have given their left nut just to get their hands on these puppies. Then of course, as soon as my back was turned, well, don't think I didn't hear the things they said about me." She sighed, relaxing for a minute, lying flat against me.
"It was a hard time for me. I was alone. No friends. I felt like a beggar, living in a house for free, being given a job, and not being able to contribute. I knew nothing about house-cleaning, or cooking, which is my own fault. I'd come home after a long day, tired, my back hurting, my feet hurting, and Chris would be home half the time, watching TV and drinking beer. He'd want me to make dinner, then cleanup, before going upstairs so he could fuck me. I just wanted to crash, and I'd have to let him climb on top of me for 20 minutes. I'd fake an orgasm just to get him to finish. I guess I was resentful. I started drinking then, even though my father is an alcoholic. I couldn't get into that bed each night without a couple of glasses of grape fortitude. You're right. At the end I just wanted away from there, and when my parents said that position was open at their friend's company, where I could earn some real money, and get back some of my self-respect, I couldn't imagine not taking it." She sniffled some, as she confessed her past to me. I was still lodged deep inside her, and enjoyed the fit, even when we were pretty stationary.
I rolled her onto her back, and took up position between her legs. Her calves and thighs were smooth and sexy, not twigs, but not too large. She was quite flexible and easily let me pull her legs way back, almost to her shoulders as I tilted her reddened pussy up, and slid balls deep back into her. I got on my knees and within a few seconds I was pounding her pretty well.
"Is there anything else?" She asked, cautiously.
"Why did you cut off all relations with the family? You never called, you never visited. After you had kids, it was more of the same. No Christmas presents for your niece, even though we never forgot your boys. And when we did visit, you treated us like crap." It was funny how easy it was for me to get worked up again. I didn't like her for a reason. She was a bitch. I needed to remind myself of that. I pulled out, put her back on her knees and fucked her some more.
"I was bad. I know that now," she managed to say between strokes, looking back at me. "I was hanging out with the wrong friends. We got drunk every weekend. I was putting on more weight and felt bad about myself. I was acting like my parents, and eventually I realized that. But it took several long years, and a complete change in friends before I ever noticed. When Chris got out of the warehouse, and into management, our friends changed. I think I grew up a little."
I grabbed her hair and pulled back, pulling her head up and countering the thrusts from my cock. "Boo-hoo. It was ok to snub the family, because you were drinking. You got drunk every weekend and forgot about the rest of the family. You just ignored them during the week." I twirled my hand in her hair, making a pony-tail which I pulled on as I pounded the selfish little twat.
Her back arched deliciously as she tried to go with the pulling, reducing the tension on her scalp. I was hurting her, and I didn't even care. She was a self-centered, heartless, little whore. I let go of her hair, pushing her head away, hard. She dropped down, her shoulders to the bed, her arms spread wide. Her head was turned sideways watching me. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
I grabbed her hips and fucked her as hard as I'd ever fucked anyone in my life. She shook under the pounding, giving up on explaining herself. I still berated her.
"How about when we came to visit just 4 years ago. You treated us like crap." I smacked her on her upturned ass, reddening her cheek. "I wouldn't treat a dog like you treated us. You dumped us in a room, and told us there was an inflatable mattress in the closet." I smacked her again. "How generous of you. Then you went out with friends, leaving us there to watch your kids." Another swat on the ass, this time harder. "We went to breakfast while you were hung-over, and you started an argument and walked out leaving us with the kids and the bill."
I was angrier than I meant to get, and I pulled out of her and threw her across my lap. I spanked her ass bright red. "Your boys were so mean to my daughter, I had to wonder at how you'd raised them. Then I realized you probably didn't." She moaned as I spanked her and started squirming immediately.
"Oww, please stop," she cried, as I smacked her hard, "stop Daddy."
The Daddy comment was like a slap in the face. What was I doing spanking a grown woman for her bad behavior. She sobbed when I stopped and pushed her off my lap.
I rolled her onto her back, threw her legs over my shoulders and screwed her some more. I reached down and grabbed those huge tits in my hands squeezing and mauling them.
"You wonder why I don't like you? What's to like? How you treated me? How you treated the family? How you treated your own kids? You were selfish and standoffish in Virginia; once you left you were just a bitch." I told her it all. It was a miracle the bed held up under the pounding she was getting. I watch the tears roll down her face, and she bit her lip white, just taking it, both verbally and physically.
Yet the angrier I got, the harder my dick got, until I felt like I was drilling her with a steel rod. I leaned over, released her red tits, and pressed my forearms into her shoulders, pinning her hard to the bed. My hands went behind her neck, pulling her face up.
Her eyes were rolling back in her head, and she was trembling underneath me. "Fuck me for the stupid selfish bitch I was," she gasped, "punish me."
I was stunned by those words, but willing enough to go along. I grabbed her hair at the crown of her head and pulled back, her neck taut, chin jutting upwards. I slowed the pace down a bit, my hips hurting from slamming into her. I gave her deep long strokes, every inch of my cock stretching her out. Her fingers were digging into my forearms, when she finally came explosively, screaming out, her body tensing up like a bowstring, twanging as I plucked it. Her pussy clasped at my cock, clamping down like a vise. It was enough to put me over the edge and I came inside her.
It was like my cumming dropped her into overdrive. She was tossing and turning, nails digging into me, feet kicking and her eyes looked like she was possessed. Her cries of ecstasy became a silent gasp. She was beautiful when she came, completely out of control. I finally saw what my wife had seen. Too bad the pretty outside packaged a piece of shit on the inside.
I pulled out of her, disgusted with myself for enjoying fucking her so damn much. I threw myself on my back, as far from her on the bed as I could get. "Just get out," I told her coldly.
She crawled over to me forlornly, and started kissing all around my shoulders and neck. "Please don't send me away so angry. I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry." I just ignored her, expecting her to leave.
But she wouldn't go that easy. She covered every inch of my body that she could reach with kisses, repeating her endless litany of remorse. "I'm sorry."
How long can a person keep saying the same thing? She repeated it until she was hoarse, kissing me everywhere, then covering my face in kisses of shame. She pressed her mouth against mine, licking my mouth, pushing her tongue against my teeth, until I finally let her in. She explored my mouth with hers, still able to occasionally apologize for the past. I found myself stupidly responding to her desperate kisses, and I kissed her back, which only caused her to collapse against me, sobbing, repeating she was sorry. I did feel a little bad for her. If it was an act, it was an excellent one.
Relentless as the tide, she caught her breath, and started the roaming kissing again, covering my entire body. "Forgive me," went the new chant, and she must have repeated it a hundred times. She ended up hovering over my cock, licking and sucking me to life once again with her intermittent "forgive me" filling the room. The words came more and more infrequently as her mouth was busy dealing with the resurgent hard-on she'd once more managed to finagle.
She got up and managed to get me sitting on the edge of the bed. Then she settled over my cock, wrapping her legs around my waist, and holding me close.
Her breasts felt warm, pressed against my chest. Her mouth was perched at my ear. "I was stupid, and selfish, and I hated myself. I was doing bad things. I was trading sex for contracts," she admitted. "I've never told anybody that. It's why I quit. I made a stupid mistake, and consented to a handjob to win the biggest contract I'd ever seen. A couple of months later, I gave a blowjob to keep that contract. Somebody told somebody else, and I was giving blowjobs for stupid little $30K projects. I found myself in a hotel room with 3 men, in order to close the A&M deal. I bled from my ass for three days. I had become a total whore." She was rocking up and down, just a little to keep me feeling good, at least physically.
She went on. "My mother had brain cancer, and breast cancer, and still wouldn't stop smoking. My father was forced out of his job into early retirement because of his drinking, and still gets drunk before noon, every day of his life. My brother is 28 and married four times. My family doesn't make good decisions." She held my face, looking at me as if every last ounce of her being was captured in the following words. "I was a drunk; I was selling myself for a few grand a year in bonuses; and I thought of nobody but myself. Then one day I snapped. I quit the job, knowing if I didn't, it would ruin my marriage and my life. My husband worked at the same company; how long could I keep a secret like that? I ended my most destructive relationship with my best friend since high-school, because with her all I did was get drunk and get high. I was almost 30 years old and destroying my life. I stop drinking cold turkey. I called everyone I knew and apologized for how I'd acted. I talked to Chris's parents, and to your wife. It was probably the hardest thing I ever did, facing those people, and taking responsibility for years of bad behavior."
She leaned back for a second, wiggling deeper down onto my hard cock. She shook her hair loose, gingerly brushing it down. Then she leaned back into me, wrapping her arms around me. Her face was right in front of mine, our noses touching, side by side, her breath filling my mouth. "Please hold me, Steve. I know I don't deserve it, but please, do it anyway." I held her warmly, my arms loose around her sides, my hands caressing her lower back.
"Close your eyes," she said softly, and I complied.
"Good, now I'm going to tell you "I'm sorry" with every fiber of my being. I want you to feel this, and see if you can find a way, some way, to forgive me for how I acted back then."
Then her lips closed over mine, gently. Our lips stayed connected, and her tongue only caressed me occasionally as our breath left and entered our bodies together. Our bodies clung together, and then I felt the beginning of a rhythm, where my body entered hers. I felt a ripple of pressure, starting at the base, and slowly rising up the shaft. We were both sitting completely still, and I felt it again. Then it was like a pulsing. Sheri was doing things unimaginable, and all with pure muscle control. The ripples became stronger, and I could feel her body tensing against mine, as she varied the tempo. She could squeeze me tightly, seemingly at any point along my cock. She could clasp and hold, or flutter little squeezes at an amazing rate. Her breath was coming faster, as if she was hard at work, running a race. But her body was stone still except where she held me inside her.
I opened my eyes, and looked at her face, lost in concentration. Her eyes were tightly closed, and I closed mine again, once more concentrating on what she was doing to me. I started tensing in time with her, squeezing that muscle below my balls that could make me stiffen and swell. I responded to her actions, pumping my cock full of blood, stiffening, lengthening, thickening inside of her soft, warm, talented pussy. I would tense hard, for just a second or so, and I would feel her tug upwards, creating a wave of tightness from my balls to the head. Each time I pumped, I could feel it in the swollen head of my cock, swelling inside her. I didn't have the restraint she did, and my hands moved down to her ass-cheeks, squeezing them, and ever so faintly pulling her harder against me, in time with my cock swelling.
Our lips separated for just a second, and she repeated it again, "I'm so sorry."
Her tongue picked up some action, darting into my mouth, and playing with my tongue. When I responded in kind I got an extra warm, extra tight pull down below. She taught me a game, with patience and reward, until I could play her pussy with the actions of my tongue. The further I explored her mouth, the tighter she'd squeeze me. As I ran my teeth across her teeth, from right to left, she squeeze higher and higher on my shaft. When I tongued her left most molars, it was like she was rubbing my cock head. Licking the top of her mouth released all the pressure, and I could feel her body respond to the break.
My hands still held her ass, and my middle finger was teasing her little back hole. With just a little nudge, the tip slid into her, and then slowly sank in to the second knuckle. My finger pumped her ass, while my tongue filled her mouth, almost to her tonsils; my reward was a tight squeeze on my cock.
It was the most intense experience I'd ever had. My whole body was responding to her actions, I was sweating and breathing hard, but no more so than she was. I stretched her ass open, and worked a second finger into her, feeling the mucles twitching around them. I had two fingers up her ass as far as they could go, and still she worked over my cock.
She slowly pulled her mouth off of mine, and pressed her lips to my ear lobe. "I'm so sorry. Please come for me," she asked almost piteously, and then her hot little twat shifted into overdrive. I could feel her actions from her thighs, through her ass, into her stomach as her pussy clenched my cock with a passion, stroking upwards, then fluttering across my cock head. It only took a couple of more of those strokes, while I pumped my cock as much as I could. I pulled her against me as hard as possible, stretching her poor asshole, while I exploded into her. As I emptied myself deep inside her pussy, she was still apologizing, over and over again. My fingers slid out of her ass, still toying with the puckered entrance.
I expected her grasp on me below the waist to finally let go, but her pussy drew every drop of cum out of me, and then continued to gently massage my shaft. I was not even able to go soft, while she used her gift to keep me semi-hard.
She leaned back a bit, looking into my eyes. "I really am sorry, Steve. I think I've changed. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"
"It's hard," I told her honestly.
She smiled a mischievous little smile, then gave me a good squeeze down below, "Not quite, but almost."
Then the smile left her face as quickly as it had arrived. "I know."
"It's hard to change 10 years of attitude in 10 minutes. No matter how amazing those 10 minutes were." I told her.
She gave me a shy smile and raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, amazing. That was absolutely mind-blowing." I told her leaning forward and kissing her lying little mouth.
Now she was cheating, using not just the muscles of her pussy, but her whole body, sliding up and down my hardening shaft. I was beyond help. I rarely came two times in an evening. This wanton harlot had me almost ready for number four.
She was smiling, but again I saw the smile flitter away, and a sad look, work it's way back. "But can you forgive me?"
"If I do forgive you, chances are I'll still get irritated over things from our past now and then." I told her honestly.
"Just tell me when, and I'll beg you for forgiveness again." Then she settled back down onto my cock, and pressing her forehead against mine, she worked her pussy the length of my cock again, now that I was fully hard inside of her. "I'm not ashamed to show you I'm sorry, in our special way," she said softly, accentuating exactly how she meant to show me.
I couldn't believe myself. I was falling for it hook-line-and-sinker. I wanted to believe it was true so I let myself. I grabbed her tightly, and stood up, holding her body sheathing my cock. I placed her on her back on the bed, and laid atop her. I kissed her face, slowly screwing her, just enjoying the motion. I was past the amazing display of control she'd shown, and the angry grudge fuck I'd thrown her way. I was still remembering the artful blowjob she'd administered. God, she was one talented woman! My cock slid in and out of her, just the natural, man/woman interplay. I kissed her lips and saw her eyes glistening with moistness again.
"I forgive you," I told her, watching her face screw up and the tears boil over. "Shhh," I calmed her, brushing the tears aside. "And I'll ask you to forgive me for holding onto that anger so tightly, and for so long."
"Of course, I forgive you," she said holding me tight.
"I'm going to see to it business brings me down here at least once every two weeks for at least the next few months." I told her. "I'll be back with two grand, and another two grand each trip, for as long as you need." I told her, and she was sobbing again, thanking me.
I owned the company and figured it was time I developed the Austin business a little better. I was making it up on the fly. "I'm going to ask you to quit Quixtar, and your other job. I'm going to put you on the payroll, and we're going to see if you can develop some business here. It'll be good for you to get you back in the workforce, and you can handle the Austin and San Antonio business. Are you willing to do that?"
She just nodded, sobbing.
"I'll have to think out the details, but I'll work it out, and when I come down here next week, we can fill in the blanks." I told her. "I should warn you I can be tough to work for. I'm going to give you some hard to achieve goals, and I'll expect you to make it happen."
She appeared almost in shock, and seemed to have forgotten that I was still driving my cock in and out of her self-centered, talented body.
She wrapped her legs around me, and told me earnestly, "I swear I'll do everything I can. I will. Thank you." She pulled my face to hers and kissed me deeply, thrusting her pelvis up to meet my down strokes.
"We'll have progress discussions whenever I can come down. I expect you to be suitably 'sorry', any time we're below expectations." I looked at her steadily to make sure we were on the same page.
She smiled and let me fuck her for a while, with a knowing grin. Then she pulled me down close and whispered into my ears. "Steve, I do 'sorry' really well, but I can do 'thank you' even better. I think it would be nice if I thanked you for this kindness every chance I get."
"I'll get you an office." I told her, smiling.
"With a comfy couch?" she asked.
"I think it's in the budget." I told her.
"Can you get up a second?" she asked me, pushing her hand against my chest.
I did, wondering what she was up to now.
"I'll be back in a minute, please be patient with me." Then she leaned over and sucked my cock a few times. "And make sure that stays just like that."
I thought about the little curves life throws you and stroked my cock easily waiting for the formerly bitchy, selfish and sluttish Sheri to reappear.
She was true to her word, and had only taken a few seconds. She closed the door behind her again, then gave me a bottle. I could see the words Doc's Anal Lube, in big letters. I looked over to see she'd climbed back on the bed, ass raised high, in expectation.
"I think it's "thank you" time," she said softly. "Lube me up, big boy, I've got a lot of thanking to do."
I rode her ass into the ground, still astounded by just how talented and accommodating this woman was in bed. It took a good ten minutes of anal reaming in half-a-dozen positions to get me to give up those last few spurts. By the time I was done, I was completely worn out, and a definite fan of the Sheri "thank-you".
We laid there side by side, and when my breath was approaching normal, I whispered. "You're welcome."
"In the morning, remind me to buy a quart of that stuff. I think I'll be thanking you a lot over the next few months." Then she rolled over into my arms, and was kissing me all over my chest and shoulder.
"Do you think he might have one more for me in there?" She asked, reaching down to caress my cock.
I almost laughed out loud. "Four is already a record for one girl. But I think I could maybe manage two in the morning instead."
"Mmmmm, now that sounds nice. The boys are off to school by eight-thirty. I think I can pencil you in at 8:35."
"8:35, and again at 9:00, and maybe a 9:30, I'm thinking," I joked.
"You've got it. I think I can find three openings for you. You know I'd love to accommodate my biggest client in any way I can." She had rolled completely on top of me, and was kissing me again. She was suddenly insatiable. Delightfully so.
"Biggest Client?" I asked.
"I'll give you the details, when you fill me in on the whole 'record for one girl' thing." Sheri teased me.
I kissed her and let my hands wander her body, while I let sleep slowly overtake me. My last thoughts were about what other tricks she might be hiding up her sleeve, or other areas of interest.
====================
Sheri paid, and paid again. I think you know her price.